


Heat

by failurebydesign



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Accidental Voyeurism, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, M/M, Masturbation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-01
Updated: 2016-01-01
Packaged: 2018-05-09 11:09:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,843
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5537660
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/failurebydesign/pseuds/failurebydesign
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When the heat goes out.</p><p>Or</p><p>Liam watches Louis and Harry have sex.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Heat

**Author's Note:**

> Just some unbeta'd porn with a slight plot. Possibly adding in a second part if there's enough interest.

“It's snowing,” Harry laughs, arms above his head and spinning while fat, white snowflakes stick to his hair. He sticks out his tongue, catches a few and laughs when some of them land on his cheeks and nose, melting away against the warm skin.

“You're an idiot.” Louis scoffs and wraps his arms around himself. He should have worn a coat, but how was he to know it was going to snow after what looked like the road to a very green Christmas.

“Just try it!” Harry stops spinning, staggers a bit in the snow, and smiles, pointing to the pattern his spinning in designer boots made on the covered ground.

“Can we just go in already? ‘S too cold.” Louis sighs and carries his bags -- takeaway and Christmas presents, up the steps, wanting nothing more than to get under a warm blanket.

Harry juggles his own set of bags, bottoms now a bit soggy from being temporarily left in a snowdrift, as he unlocks the door. The flat isn't any less warmer than outside, save for the snow that had been falling on their heads.

Louis checks the thermostat -- on, but clearly not working. 

“Harry.”

“What?” Harry looks up after stepping out of his wet boots. “I paid the bill, I swear.”

“So it's broken, great.” Louis knew it was only a matter of time. The thing’s been making strange noises all week. But Harry promised it was normal. That all furnaces sound all bit clunky when they're heating up.

“I'll call Liam then?” Harry already has his phone in hand, typing something out to Louis can only assume is Liam, the slightly awkward and yet strangely fit lad who lives down the hall.

“Liam can't fix this,” Louis worries his bottom lip between his teeth and rattles the thermostat button to see if maybe there's a loose wire or something. “Besides, if our heat is out, so is his, don't you think? All of the systems are connected a bit, right?”

It doesn't help that last time they asked Liam to fix something, the stove, he'd somehow made it work a little too well. The next time Louis attempted to cook, he'd burnt it all. He's not admitting it's in part due to his thinking about Liam's arms and the curve in his back when he was bent in front of the cooking unit. 

Harry paces, scrolling through his phone. There's one obvious answer, the property owner, but Louis refuses to let him into their flat unless absolutely necessary.

“I'm not calling that twat.” Louis snatches Harry's phone from his hand and tosses it onto the sofa, out of arm's reach. “I'd rather freeze to death.” When it comes to having to endure Nick Grimshaw, Louis doesn't find working heat all the necessary.

Nick is older than them, loud, obnoxious and always sending them little countdown reminders when rent is due. Not that they've ever paid it late. If Louis had his way, they'd move somewhere far away from the likes of Nick and his penchant to hit on Harry every chance he gets.

“Are you jealous?” Harry coos.

Louis just flips him off. Because of course he's fucking jealous, not that he's admitting it.

“You are,” Harry adds in softly and slips his arms around a disgruntled Louis.

He wants to shove Harry aside and continue on being bitter. Harry of all people should know better than to touch him when he's annoyed. But he's frozen down the bone and not even his favorite adidas jumper is much help. Harry, though. He's warm.

It's Harry who decides to text Liam, Louis far too concerned with getting himself a hot cuppa and a heavy blanket to hide beneath.

Louis is drifting in and out of a tea induced slumber when a loud knock at the door jolts him awake. He's grumpy and mumbling into his blanket when Harry opens the door and Liam, looking like some sort of fucking model in ripped jeans and a black jumper walks in.

“Did you call Nick?” Liam’s cheeks are pink, like he's been outside of far too long. Turns out, like Louis suspected, his heat is also malfunctioning.

“Fuck no,” Louis huffs, sure he can see his breath inside of the flat for Christ sakes. “But by all means, feel free.”

By the look on Liam's face, it's clear that he doesn't want to be the one to do it, either. So he settles on a text, letting Nick know that they'll call maintenance.

It's snowing pretty hard, enough to make it difficult to see outside and Louis can think of hundreds of things he'd rather be doing. 

“Do you want some tea?” Harry pours himself a bit of water from the electric kettle, but Liam graciously declines. 

“Niall's coming by with the maintenance van.” Liam glances out the window, outside looking dreary as ever. “Keep warm, I'll be back up as soon as I get some news.”

Harry nods as Liam leaves but Louis, still annoyed by the predicament, just grunts.

“Do you think you can stop being so insufferable?” Harry smiles sweetly, despite Louis’ shake of his head. “At least try?”

“Bite me,” Louis retorts.

Louis should know better than to make such literal remarks when Harry's intent is to always oblige. Before he can take it back, Harry is sprawled across his lap, pulling the blanket down from over Louis’ upper body.

“Hey, stop that,” Louis mumbles when Harry's lips brush his neck. He acts like he doesn't want it when Harry sucks a deep purple mark into the skin and again when he snakes a hand below the blanket to squeeze at Louis’ thigh.

“Really?” Harry tilts his head to the side, examining his work.

“No, of course not.” Louis shakes his head, not the best at lying when Harry calls his bluff, hands working their way between his thighs like they are.

“Bedroom then?” Harry asks, though doesn't need to. Louis’ already half hard.

**

Louis prefers the type of lube that warms up on skin contact, makes his insides melt with each smooth stroke of his fingers and his toes curl as he stretches himself open. He makes Harry watch as he props his legs up, takes two fingers and pushes them past the tight rim, alternating which way he twists his fingers with each dip inside. Louis keeps going, fucking himself with his fingers until he's slippery and dripping with lube.

Harry fits between the smaller boy’s legs with ease, holding him at the waist, large hands and fingers splayed over his hips and stomach.

“I'm ready.” Louis slips his fingers out, wipes them on the blanket and hooks his hands beneath his knees. “C’mon, hurry.”

Harry is bigger than just two of his fingers, stretching Louis when he sinks in, leaving a dull ache behind that Louis craves. Slick with lube, he bottoms out quickly, eliciting a low moan from deep within Louis.

“Fuck me,” Louis moans impatiently, hips rocking up against Harry's unmoving cock. It fills him up, but isn't enough. Not when Harry's purposely still.

He nods at Louis, eyes closing softly when he rolls his hips downwards, thrusting in with smooth, steady strokes. 

“Fuck, that's good,” Louis groans, finding it difficult to hold his knees to his chest when Harry fucks harder, faster.

“Lou,” Harry hums, catches on and guides Louis’ legs over his shoulders, giving him an entirely new angle.

“Yeah, fuck, yeah.” Louis lets the words, though mostly incoherent, tumble from his mouth. Smaller sounds, near whimpers, follow with each and every stroke of Harry's cock, brushing his prostate.

“A little warmer?” Harry asks with a grin as he fucks into Louis, tracing his finger through the little beads of sweat that form along the smaller boy’s collarbone. It's clear he knows the answer when he brings his hand up and licks the sweat away from the pad of his fingertip. The fucking tease.

“What the fuck do you think?” Louis groans and rolls his hips up, cock bumping against Harry's stomach. It's a low ache that begs him to touch himself, to wank his cock until he comes with a shout -- but he doesn't move. Just holds his gaze, locked on Harry.

There's a small whimper, though not from Louis. Liam, frozen in the doorway, clears his throat, voice low when he finally musters up the courage to speak. He's looking down, face shielded, but Louis is sure he's blushing.

“The, um, heat is back on so uh, I'm gonna, yeah, go.” Liam half ass waves, then takes a few steps back. “S-sorry. I didn't mean--”

“You can watch if you'd like,” Harry replies, voice smooth. He slides his palms up Louis stomach and then chest, skin slick on skin. “Louis’ got a bit of a crush on you.”

“Shut up, I don't!” Louis shivers beneath the soft touches, a bit annoyed by Harry’s stilled hips. Maybe he's mentioned a time or two that Liam looks more than fit in a tight shirt and he's definitely joked about a threesome before -- not that he'd actually act on it. Not when Liam's straight and Louis is in an established relationship. “I don’t,” he repeats.

“Come on,” Harry beckons.

Louis closes his eyes. If Liam's not running out the door when he opens them again, then surely he likes what he sees. When his eyes open, fixed on the door and sees that Liam isn't there anymore, Louis exhales.

“Turn over.” Harry lifts Louis from around the waist and repositions him, arse up and facing the chair in the corner of the room. The same one that Liam is perched upon, looking coy as ever.

“Jesus,” Louis curses when his eyes catch Liam's, staring down dark and intense. If it weren't for the fact that Harry has him pinned down, he's pretty sure he'd be on top of him, hands making their way into his pair of ripped jeans.

But Harry has him trapped, his top half pressed into the mattress and arms splayed out over his head, as if reaching towards Liam. If only he were a few feet closer, he could rest his palms on Liam's knees.

Harry tugs him back, making his reach even further away. Liam is still, lips parted slightly and bottom lip jutting out in a way that makes him look irresistibly kissable. 

Louis lets out a low groan when Harry presses his lips to the dip in his back, hands sliding down to cup his arse. There’s a quick squeeze and then he feels Harry's hot breath as he moves back up, undoubtedly trying to get a reaction out of Liam.

“Fuck me already.” Louis ruts against the mattress, the fabric of the knit blanket they're laid out on a bit much but he doesn't care anymore. He's desperate to be touched after being denied orgasm once already.

The sound of a zipper being pulled down makes Louis’ cock twitch painfully at the idea of Liam being just as desperate as he.

Harry holds Louis up with an arm around his small waist and slips back inside, finally giving Louis what he's been waiting for.

“Finally,” Louis groans, forehead hitting the mattress below him. The slow drag of Harry's cock sends shivers through his spine, fingers intertwining the blanket that he grips tightly.

There's the sound of short, quick gasps that come from Liam and make him crane his neck the best he can. He needs to see just how badly Liam wants a show.

“You like seeing me get fucked, Payno?” Louis hisses. He wants to last. Wants to see Liam beg for his own orgasm. Louis’ smirk should say it all when he runs his tongue along his bottom lip and eyes the way Liam has a hand wrapped around his cock.

“Yeah,” Liam says almost lazily, like the long, slow strokes he's giving his dick.

“Good.” Louis knows his ass probably looks nice up in the air, not that Liam can fully appreciate it. 

“Why don't you show him what a good boy you are?” Harry ruffles Louis’ hair and gives his arse a bit of a pat.

“Fuck,” Louis curses, cock twitching at the implication. 

He lifts himself up to straddle Harry's hips, facing Liam and perched there like a prince upon his royal throne. Riding Harry is nothing new, though someone watching is an entirely different story. 

Louis’ mouth drops open, though silent when Harry guides the tip of his cock inside of him, much easier the second time around.

Liam gives his own cock a little squeeze, a sure sign that he likes what he sees. His light grunt is encouragement enough for Louis to grind down, making Harry's hips jerk up into him.

“Let's see you come,” Louis starts, rocking his hips until he's picked up a decent pace. He wants to see Liam wank himself faster, to actually see his mouth drop open when he moans, watching the way Louis moves.

“God,” Liam chokes out a moan, eyes fixed right where Louis wants them -- on Louis middle, cock hard and body pliant when bouncing on Harry’s dick alone becomes too much.

Harry grips at his hipbones, anchors Louis down and quickly takes over, fucking upwards, slick and hot.

“Shit,” Louis bows his head down and leans his body forward to lean his forearms against the mattress. Body arched and trembling, he palms at his cock to the soft whimpers coming from Liam and the rough, deep strokes of Harry fucking into him. 

But Liam, focused on Louis, moaning when Louis gasps is more than enough to keep Louis going. He rolls his hips down the beat he can, muscles straining and making his thighs shake.

“I.. I need to,” Louis exhales with a hard shudder, no longer worried about what Liam wants. He wants to come. Harry doesn't tell him no this time.

“Come for me.” Even Liam looks surprised that he's said it, eyes dark and cheeks flush. 

Something tugs hotly in Louis’ stomach. He lifts his head, sure his eyes are just as dark and lustful. It's hard to think when he's so close to coming.

“Go ahead,” Harry encourages, cupping Louis’ arse cheeks.

He isn't sure if it's Harry's permission or Liam's that's about to drive him over the edge. Louis pumps his cock, frantic until it pulsates in his hand, spilling as he shouts.

“Holy fuck.” Louis’ voice is rough and eyes blown out, hands gripping the blanket beneath him. Harry isn't finished just yet, he's still fucking Louis through his orgasm long after his body is pliant and over sensitive.

Liam is next to come. Hips jerk up and he shoots a few white ropes over his hand and slightly exposed stomach.

Louis feels dirty when he pictures himself slipping out from beneath Harry to lick Liam's stomach clean. He thinks he will, once Harry's come. The idea alone makes his cock stir slightly.

He's almost thankful when Harry slips out, body tense and still a bit shaky from overstimulation. Louis turns to Harry to reach for his cock but Harry shakes his head and shoves him down on the mattress. 

Louis goes easily and lets his mouth drop open. It's his favorite part.

Harry hovers over and wanks himself slowly at first.

“I swear to God if you don't come on me already.” Louis exhales, knowing his attempt to sound demanding came out like more of a whine, but it seems to be working.

Harry picks up speed, lips parting with a moan and Louis knows he's close now. He gives one final grunt as a warning.

Louis closes his eyes, as much as he likes to see Harry's face when he comes, and makes a small pleased sound when the hot splash of come hits his cheek and then tongue. He swipes his tongue along his bottom lip, unmistakably Harry.

He doesn't get it all. Harry wipes him down with a flannel from head to toe before they're too sticky. Liam's already cleaned up his own mess and tosses a balled up tissue into the bin, which is a shame when Louis’ still wanting a taste.

Louis holds out his hand and helps him up, eyes transfixed when Liam tucks his cock away into his jeans.

“No, no,” Louis says with the bat of his hand once Liam's dick is out of view. “Allow me.” He reaches down and is careful in zipping Liam back up.

“Thanks?” Liam laughs, breath unintentionally hot against Louis cheek as his lifts his head.

“Next time the heat goes out,” he says, patting the crotch of Liam's jeans, “I'll be unzipping those.”

Liam bites his lip, then turns to Harry.

“What? Don't look at me,” Harry laughs and pulls on an old pair of joggers that were lying on the floor. “He's marked his claim.”

Louis nods and finally feels pretty damn lucky that the furnace is pretty much shit. If it brings them another play date with Liam, he just may break it himself.


End file.
